


the kid's aren't alright

by peupeugunn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Lots of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 22:14:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12757215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peupeugunn/pseuds/peupeugunn
Summary: He sits in the centre of a crossroads for a little too long, thinking it over. At one point he wonders if there's a demon, invisible, waiting for Dean to make his decision. It seems unlikely, but the thought spurs Dean on in his process. It makes him stand up, brush himself off, and drive back to the house he and Bobby had hid Sam's body in. Before anything else, he knows he owes his baby brother a funeral worthy of a hunter.





	the kid's aren't alright

**Author's Note:**

> a gift for the light of my life, the bane of my existence

It's an itch, underneath his skin. Ever present, a constant reminder of the fact that he should not be here, shouldn't be alive. Sometimes it shows itself as a darkness in the recesses of his mind, an ancient man watching and waiting, sneering at the sheer insult Dean will be for every second until his last breath. Dean’s own hatred of this unrelenting chill is what makes him really, _truly_ think about whether making this deal for Sam's life would be right.

There's a natural order to life and death. The knowledge of it is seared into his bones, and with it comes the revulsion Dean feels towards himself. He had woken up in that god forsaken hospital bed knowing that he was well and truly an abomination, that he was no different from the things he hunted. His father's deal with the yellow eyed demon Marked Dean in a way he wasn't sure he wanted to understand. The thought of having Sam walking around with the very same thoughts in his head, having his little brother think of himself as a monster in more ways than he knew, it made Dean second guess his decision to bring Sam back.

He sits in the centre of a crossroads for a little too long, thinking it over. At one point he wonders if there's a demon, invisible, waiting for Dean to make his decision. It seems unlikely, but the thought spurs Dean on in his process. It makes him stand up, brush himself off, and drive back to the house he and Bobby had hid Sam's body in. Before anything else, he knows he owes his baby brother a funeral worthy of a hunter.

 

* * *

 

The kid who actually had the nerve to shove a knife into Sammy's back kills Bobby too. Unintentionally, sure, but very thoroughly. But the devil's gate has been opened, a hoard of demons rushing out, and Yellow Eyes is right in front of Dean, who has the Colt in his hand. He doesn't give the slimy bastard a chance to use the freakish powers most demons possess to push Dean around, he simply puts a bullet in his skull.

The flicker of lights playing under pale skin, the crack of electricity in the air, the sharp scent of sulfur, it's all almost beautiful. Dean has only a moment to savor the fact that he killed the sucker that had his brother killed before he's rushing to help Ellen close the gate. Each second it remains open is a second more for demons to escape the Pit, and by now it's already been thrice as many demons anyone has dealt with before.

By the time they get it closed, Ellen looks a little too close to passing out, Dean’s entire body is burning from the exertion, and they're both slumped against the closed gates staring in numb horror at Bobby's dead body. Dean's mind comes to a standstill when he realises that no, Bobby can't brush this one off. The man who was more like a father than John Winchester ever was, was his last link to humanity after Sammy was killed- and it surprises him that his baby brother was killed only _three days ago_ , because it seems like it's been years.

_No,_ he thinks very firmly. _This isn't how it's going to go._ Ellen must tell the line his thoughts are taking because she sends him a fierce glare, even while blinking away tears furiously.

_Don't you dare, Dean Winchester._ She says, and for a second he wonders if that's what his mother would have said if she'd lived. But if she had, he wouldn't even be considering this. Ellen is truly amazing, but she's not family yet. Bobby is- was- and Dean knows he won't be able to make it too far without him.

Bobby can Dean with all the shit Dean is, can work past the self hatred that comes with resurrection as a package deal. Even if he can't, Dean doesn't care because for once in his life he wants to allow himself to be selfish. He couldn't with Sam because Sam deserved so much better than the half life Dean’s been living. But Bobby has always been stronger than the both of them.

So he doesn't listen to Ellen. He ignores the pain in her eyes and the scowl on her face, and gets into his Impala. Dean goes back to the same crossroads he went to when considering bringing Sam back. It makes him wonder if he's a shitty brother, seeing as he's bringing back his foster father and not his flesh and blood. But he banishes the thought because this life was never for Sam. It never should have been.

The last thought that flits through his mind before he buries the little box and bargains for Bobby's life is _Maybe Sammy's with Jess now. Maybe he'll get his forever with her like he always wanted._

 

* * *

 

Bela Talbot is a tricky bitch. A liar and a thief and completely repulsive, but he knows she's not lying. She can't be, seeing as she's talking about something Dean hasn't told anyone, even Bobby, about.

_She made a knife that can kill demons_ , Bela tells him, and Dean can't help but snort. He had no idea when they'd started talking about some witch-turned-demon but he definitely doesn't think a demon would have made a knife that could slaughter her own kind. Then again, she _was_ a demon.

But then Bela, oddly enough, keeps talking despite the gun pointed at her face and he knows that she can see the desire to kill on his face. She wouldn't have made it this far if she couldn't tell the difference between discomfort and bloodlust.

_She's one of the few that orchestrated the whole disaster with the demon blood abominations,_ Bela says and Dean can't help it, he freezes. He and Bobby never talk about Sam because it still feels raw, like a blister he keeps picking at. He's twenty nine years old and he still has nightmares about his mom dying when he was a goddamned _child_ , he knows he'll never be rid of the (metaphorical) ghost of the little brother he should have saved.

So he doesn't say anything because he _can't._ The desire to pull the trigger burns through his veins, the rage he feels because _how could she possibly call Sammy an abomination when all he ever was was_ good _?_ But for all Bela likes playing her little games, Lannister that she is- fuck she almost even looks the part- she doesn't know shit about Sam but she does know who Dean needs to kill for his thirst for revenge to be satiated and Dean _needs_ to know, more than he's ever needed anything in his life.

 

* * *

 

Dean comes to realise that he has reached a point in his life where he needed to shoot monsters dead or he'd shoot himself and end all of his sorrows. And since Sammy was dead, and Bobby and Ellen were busy training Jo to hunt so she wouldn't die in the first five minutes of her rolling into town, there wouldn't be anyone to bring Dean back. Considering the deal Dean had made for Bobby's life, he'd be pulled straight down to hell, don't pass go, don't collect $200.

So he hunts the demon bitch that had his brother killed, not only for his own revenge but so that he can get his hands on the demon exterminating knife of hers. Dean needs it more than ever, his hands full, with avoiding the hunters vying for his head due to the opening of the devil's gate, and with killing as many demons as he possibly can to distract himself from his growing suicidal ideation.

It had taken him a little too long to train himself to be self sufficient in every aspect of the job -and two months of his last year on earth had been wasted on that- to the extent where he rarely needed Bobby's help. He'd stumbled, cost innocent people their lives, but he'd gotten _better._ Sometimes, Dad’s voice yelled at Dean in his head, barking out orders, keeping him on track. It helped, even if it made the dark, ugly resentment that had been building up his entire life take over for a few moments too many. But at the end of the day, Dean knew his Dad had been one of the best hunters he'd ever known, and whatever helped Dean get that good was welcome. 

It wasn't exactly healthy, what with Sam’s voice whispering platitudes to spew out at the families of the victims in his head alongside his Dad’s harsh criticisms, but it helped him find the demon- Ruby, as Bela had called her. It’s also the only thing that was keeping Dean from ganking the hell out of her¹ when she pretended not to know what he was talking about.

_Why did you do it?_ He asks again, nearly gritting his teeth in impatience. A little motivation to talk in the form of holy water and salt down the bitch's throat and the itch under his skin subsides momentarily.

_I didn't do jack squat to your little pussy of a brother, Winchester, how many times do I have to say it?_ She hisses back, flashing her black eyes with a furious snarl.

_Why give them demon blood_ , He asks more calmly, his impatience bleeding into the sort of calm that came to Dean when he fixed cars. This entire situation was a car wreck and he was fixing it, one piece at a time.

Her brows furrow, her lips pulling back into an odd smile that seems too faked to be anything but a façade. She's trying to hide her confusion at his question, Dean can tell. What he doesn't get is _why._

Ruby takes him by surprise with her borderline hysterical laughter. _You think_ I _had anything to do with that mess? I couldn't even take credit for it if I tried!_ It's not what he's expecting her to say and it stuns him into silence. _It was Azazel and_ Lilith, _dumbass!_

It's not what he was looking for but he takes it anyways. He can see the sliver of hope in her eyes that he'll let her go which is, quite frankly, ridiculous. Letting her go would be the Sam thing to do, but he's never claimed to be a good person. So he drives home the fact that he isn't the kind of asshole to be messed with by stabbing her with her own demon blade, and leaves.

He's got a thief to kill.

 

* * *

 

Time is something that's oddly difficult to explain. It doesn't _exist_ per se, but it just _is_. It's incredibly difficult but scarily simple to manipulate, as well. Powerful beings like Lilith could snap their fingers and the entire timeline leading up to that point could change with none the wiser. Of course, there's problems with that too.

The first problem is the Three Fates. By changing time, you're interfering in their meticulously laid out Plans for each being that lives. And you'd think that by making such a drastic change, you'd have fucked up all their records to suit what changes you've wreaked upon the world. But their records _never_ change unless by their hands. The Fates are notorious for despising anything that twists the world so that their records do not reflect the outcome. So not only would you have manipulated time to create a new world that only you wouldn't understand, but you'd have made enemies out of friggin’ _Destiny._

The second problem is the sheer magnitude of power it would require to change time. You're not only changing the outcome of a single event, you're changing the outcome of every single event that took place after, in the unaltered timeline. And it'd be you to fuck with each and every one of those events even if you don't consciously register it. If you aren't dead by the end of the process, you've either got all the power of the souls of the damned behind you, as Lilith does as Queen Regent of Hell, or you've got the power of all the souls of the Blessed behind you, like angels. But even for powerful creatures like those, it's insanely difficult.

The third problem is, of course, the event you'd need to change. Changing one small incident to reflect your wants leads to a massive, disproportionate ripple in the electric fabric of time. But changing a huge event that affects the lives of _every being on the planet_ , while it does require a hell of a lot of power, doesn't change much. Of course, some things have to change, but essentially the song remains the same.

But of course this isn't even beginning to explain all the alternate realities that occur as a result of everyday actions. The past is- mostly- a definite line. The future, every single possible future that could occur in the next second, all of that is a mess of squiggly lines that intersect and blow wildly apart and run parallel. Drawing it out makes the future look something like lightning.

The shithole that Dean put himself in when he decided to let Sam enjoy the afterlife in all his gigantic glory, it's just a reality that _could have_ occurred. When Dean stood at that crossroads with his little brothers blood on his hands, the future was two very definite lines that devolved into lightning. We already know what would have happened had he made the deal. It's a reality that runs parallel to the one in which he didn't.

It's why Dean let's Bela live after hearing of her deal. He hates her with every fibre of his being because he really does understand her. Her reasons, why she does what she does. It's _because_ of this that he hates her. Because she's more like him than he cares for, and he hates himself more than he's ever hated anyone in his life.

It's why Dean travels all the way to a little house where a demonic little girl has decided to make herself comfortable, with only his ghosts for company, with his clock ticking slowly towards zero. It's why he doesn't fight as much as he could have when Lilith sets her specially bred Hellhounds on him. They tear through his skin like butter with claws and fangs he can't see, the pain echoes through his head, but all he can hear is the sickening sound of the knife slipping through his baby brother's chest.

_I'm sorry Sammy,_ is Dean's last thought before Lilith opens a Hellmouth especially for the Righteous Man and throws him in. _I know you'll never agree but I deserve this,_ Dean thinks as he falls past the jeering Royalty of Hell and straight into the High Inquisitor's little corner of Hell.

 

* * *

 

Venturing into Hell is not, in any universe, easy. It poses multiple problems for a normal being, but for angels it is much worse. They need vessels in order to survive for more than a few moments in the Pit, because the broken, twisted Graces of the Fallen spread all throughout the damned place, and only a vessel could protect untainted Grace against the influence of Lucifer's First. And the vessels likely wouldn't survive.

So Castiel appears in a young woman's dreams one night, pleading with her to let them take over her body, to go on the most Holy venture into the darkness of the Pit to raise the Righteous Man from Perdition. She is reluctant at first, but Castiel reasons that her body will be cured of the cancer that ails it. If she did not survive, Castiel would guide her to her Heaven, where she would spend eternity lavishing in the purest of her memories.

 

* * *

 

Castiel knows that their siblings are doing the same to gain vessels for the venture, but they don't care for which bloodline would suit them best. This young woman, Isabelle, not only has the blood of the Blessed in her veins, but she also has Faith, in God, His angels, and in herself. She truly believed that she could do good, could help shape the world into something beautiful, even though her body is plagued with sickness. It is why she says Yes.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel loses three of her brothers to the vicious Dukes of Hell, another to demon children of the First Fallen, and almost loses one of her sisters to the same before they manage to enter Alastair's territory. She leaves her injured sister with orders to make sure no one followed her while she looked for the Righteous Man.

She finds him after a painfully long time. He is in an amphitheatre, on the stage with a tortured soul and the High Inquisitor himself. The audience, with eager grins, seemed enraptured by what they watch, but Castiel is only repulsed. Dean Winchester, under Alastair's careful eye, carves into the soul with a delicate hand, grinning at the screams he elicits. His hands are covered in blood in the literal and metaphorical sense, and Castiel can almost _taste_ the taint of Hell on the Righteous Man’s soul. She’s too late, but in her superior's eyes, she’s exactly on time.

_So this is the Righteous Man?_ Isabelle whispers in the back of Castiel's mind, her voice ringing with sorrow, and pity and _sympathy_ of all things. Castiel is struck with amazement at how forgiving humans seem to be. But she has a job to do, a sister to help, and has no time for such ponderings.

She doesn’t bother with masking her Grace as she walks onto the stage, sword in hand. The pitiful excuses for demons scuttle out immediately, but Alastair and one other being remain. Castiel senses the tainted Grace of one of the Fallen, but the creature doesn't seem nearly as powerful or as experienced as her, only foolishly eager. It’s physically easy enough to smite it, but she still feels a measure of pain at having to kill one of her siblings, despite their status as one of Lucifer's brethren.

Dean Winchester stares at her in awe, head tilted to the side in something like confusion, and Alastair laughs maniacally, eyes bright with a victory no human hunter would understand till it was too late. The vile demon disappears in a puff of sulphur, but Dean Winchester does not notice.

_What are you,_ He whispers, and Castiel wishes she could smile at his childlike curiosity, but she remains disgusted by the taint on his soul, the blood on his hand, the ease with which he tortures souls.

Instead, she holds a hand out to him as is her duty, and whispers back, _I am the Angel Castiel, and I am to raise you from Perdition, Dean Winchester._

But the human shakes his head, soul echoing with a sorrow Castiel could never begin to understand. _I can't let you do that, Castiel._  

She steps closer, placing a hand on his shoulder slowly, ignoring the sliver of disgust she can't help but feel.   _But why,_ She asks equally softly.

_I don't deserve to be saved_ , Dean Winchester says, and Castiel Looks. In his soul, she not only sees a taint, but echoes of loss and a hatred directed at himself. She doesn't understand, the Host of Heaven are trained to let go of such emotions in order to be the perfect soldiers. But that must be of the many things that differentiate angels from humans.

This time she manages a smile, though it shows her stubbornness and regret clearly. _I truly am sorry for this, Dean Winchester. But I have my orders,_ She says and drags him, kicking and screaming and struggling just as hard as any soul on the Rack would have, along with her injured sister, out of Lilith’s dominion.


End file.
